


Piece of after the end

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Ark II (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Foreshadowing, Gen, One Shot, Post-Apocalypse, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26416462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Summary: Fagon loved his home, dearly. It was one of the best houses on Earth that remained in good condition after the end and did not wish to be parted with it.





	Piece of after the end

The 24th century was full of darkness, struggle, and hardship even most importantly pieces of civilization scattered all over the globe in piles or in underground storage for military bases. Some villages were more prosperous than many of the other villages stored around the globe that were once suburbs, towns, and cities. In forty-three kilometers from the lake that had once been Houston, there was a village that lurked in the outskirts of what was now a piece of the sea that drifted on.

The village was held roughly close to a thousand people living in houses that ranged in condition from bad, to maybe, to good. Centuries ago, the landscape used to be a barren field full of debris, remains of skeletons that one belonged to the living, old buildings that were thoroughly taken out of shape by war, and coffins that had been washed out of their graves by floods. Said coffins were now the houses of old trees that formed vasts forests that hadn't existed centuries ago. This village was relatively hidden but easy to find with a stroll down a uneven road.

A group that consisted of brutes came into the sleepy village armed with cattle, donkeys, ponies, goats, chickens, and horses. It was quite a unusual sight. A old man in his seventies looked out his window observing the unusual parade looking on leaning forward until water squirted at his face from the sink then stepped back and picked up a long tool, aimed it at the rounded gears, lowered it down then twirled the second gear until the water stopped sprinkling. He looked over into the depths of the well kept sink then lowered down and opened the doors.

There was hardly any problems in the plumbing.

The old man, Fagon, frowned lifting himself up to his feet.

"How in the heavens did that happen?" Fagon contemplated. "I haven't replaced the head in years."

He rubbed his chin, contemplating, then twisted the head changing the pressure.

"Now this should do--" He turned it back on and the pristine water came pouring out. "Perfect."

The old man grinned, clapping his hands together then rubbed them, gleefully.

"To see the other villagers!"

The old man made a bolt through the mansion. He slid the door open, closed it behind him, and carefully closed it with one key. He withdrew the key, placed it into his pocket, then ran after the direction of the center of the village. The newcomers had drawn attention in the form of people that were younger than the old man. The crowd was vast and wide enough to summon most of the neighborhood.

"Where have you come from?" One of the villagers asked.

"The place of hills!" The tallest brute, Osafagan, replied. "A place that plenty of wagons to turn into a temporary home."

"Full of fields that are colorful, cotton that you can pick and dye, so much rich soil, and perfect leveling from floods." Massissa bubbled over the oo and the aww that came from the crowd from her glowing review. "There are so many ancient architecture and underground tunnels to keep warm in. Books! Books to read, no need to burn them, waste them, use them as decoration piece, we can rebuild what we have lost!"

"My mate, Massissa, is very fond of the western place." Osafagan replied, grinning.

"Many places have hills!" Fagon called.

"It is full of livestock, people, a perfect stream full of water, no swamps, and did I mention there were communities of people all around!" Massissa emphasized. "There is schoolhouses full of children, people exchanging books and reading them, and nice neighborhoods and medicine!"

"How different is it from this great area?" Fagon asked. "Asides to live stock," Fagon smiled, politely, holding on to his dark hat. "dear sir."

"There is horses, cattle, and vegetation in the area that lies in the west!" Osafagan's second in command, Honar, announced.

"Horses!" another member cried.

"BEHOLD--" Osafagan picked up a fair white pony. "A _horse_."

The crowd murmured in shock and awe as Fagon looked down toward the creature quite intrigued.

"Does it rain?" Fagon's neighbor, Mavonna, asked.

"From time to time." Osafagan replied. 

"Rain!" Mavonna cried.

"So much rain to spare." Massissa informed.

"Give us the directions and we will give you everything that you need." the head of the village announced across from Mavonna. "Everything."

"Yes, _everything_!" Fagon nodded in agreement.

"All that you need for travelers such as yourself!" Mavonna's friend added.

"We like to rest and start putting roots down." Osafagan's partner, Massissa, announced. "If we can get a nice and big place of our own then that would be good for starters."

Fagon raised his head up as the crowd exchanged glances with one another wearily considering the request then eyed back at the food that was on the carts. It hit him what this was about to lead to and his words became a instant regret. Members of the crowd licked their lips while some clenched on to the shoulders of their partners struggling to keep themselves from throwing themselves into the crowd and asking them to take their residence. Fagon could feel a few eyes were on him so he retreated back to the mansion as the murmuring continued.

The mansion was part of a forest now, once shielded by a brick wall that continued for several miles at a time with little apartments that were now gone and replaced by shacks made of various material such as wood and clay. There wasn't a gate anymore in the way but a clear entrance way leading toward the drive way leading into the mansion lined by apple trees that reached up into the sky full of leaves and healthy apples. A apple crashed on to Osafagan's head in large part to the longest branch of the tree looming over the crowd. Osafagan rubbed the apple, admired it, then took a bite.

One by one, members of the crowd handed in their keys with simple requests that followed the similar wording as: "We will be traveling for this promised land, just give us some time to pack our belongings." and they were given the additional horses that weren't needed by the newcomers. Osafagan was surprised to be given this generosity on a long trip. The travelers looked on toward the members of the crowd that walked away leaving only the people who could not afford to give their homes up behind. The leader of the village approached Osafagan, eying at him, but very certain.

"My dwelling is too small for you." The village leader replied.

"You mean; that is it?" Osafagan replied, stunned.

"Almost it," The village leader shook her head. "We have one last member."

She looked toward the threshold leading toward the mansion wrapping her blanket around her figure.

"Do you know the owner?"

"No," The village leader said, softly. "I know someone who came in one day and claimed it as theirs."

Osafagan's eyes briefly widened then smiled, wrapping a arm around the shoulder of his partner, nodding.

"Just like we will." Osafagan said.

"A house just for our little ones." Massissa said as she rubbed her stomach. "All seven of them."

"That old man has lived behind that great wall of rock for God knows how long." The village leader was quiet for a long solid moment considering what she knew about him then sighed. Her shoulders lowered as she lowered her head with a heavy decision made. She lifted her head up toward the very young, promising, and very needt couple. "Doesn't need it anymore, won't need it in a short while, yet he keeps it all to himself."

"Wasting a lot of space for one person." Massissa said, somberly.

"Very." The leader of the village confirmed.

"Tell us more." Osafagan requested.

"He has no family to take over the building should he discard this mortal form that hasn't been really well cared for." She shifted back toward Osafagan. "You may take it."

The leader of the village was certain with her comment while Massissa and Osafagan stared at her.

"The people won't get in the way." The village leader replied.

Osafagan motion his attention to his comrades then went on ahead with Massissa by his side. The walk was long and slow heading down the steep hill that lead down to the mansion beneath the apple tree branches. The leader of the village turned away then walked on down the path.

Osafagan mulled over the strange inscription on the wooden box along the passageway that lead toward the mansion. The paint was long lasting with different colors on each letter; neon green, purple, yellow, and orange. The words were easy enough to make out as what they spelled from the remains of civilization. He didn't pity those who fell in the ruins of civilization as everything fell apart, only sorrow that it happened at all.

The group, now smaller than it was before, came to a pause in front of the tall door to the mansion. Osafagan raised a hand up then knocked on the door, loudly. He knocked three times then lowered his hand and waited for the door to open. They stood there for a very long time so the leader of the group raised his hand then knocked on the door a second time. He did this for a long time as the sky turned to dark above their heads and the temperature fell.

Finally, the door slid open. 

"Hello, Mr Fagon."

"Fagon who?"

"You?"

"There is only a Fagon."

"That's a different name."

"No, dear sir, it is not. It is the same name."

"Your sign reads Mr Fagon."

"It's pronounced; _Fay-gain._ "

The man rolled his eyes.

"Alright, Fagon." The man replied.

"How may I help you?" Fagon asked.

"We like your house." Osafagan asked.

"It's pretty." Massissa said.

"Very pretty." spoke up another member.

"Thank you." Fagon replied, pleased. "Caring for it is a trouble, but . . . it is very worth while at the end of the day."

"We WANT your house." Osafagan was exasperated.

"My dear sir, that is simply unallowable!" Fagon protested.

"LISTEN, old man!" Osafagan's mood soured. "We're going to come in and take that house forcibly if you don't take a skram!" Osafagan towered over the five foot eleven man. "You don't own this mansion, the heaters, the water supply, you stole it like the rest of us."

"I-I-I-I-I-I-I have lived here for nearly six--" The old man stammered as his face turned a heated red. "Half a century!" He stood on the tips of his toes trying to stand up to the level of the younger moment then in the next moment did he fall back down to his feet. "Surely, this counts as my own."

"You're old and you are about to slip off this mortal coil, old man." Osafagan glared upon Fagon. "And you have no one else to care for it should you pass."

"I am at the prime of my health!" Fagon protested.

"People like you don't last long after being beaten up!" Massissa's close friend, Honar, smacked a fist against her hand, her arms were muscular and large, sweat pouring down her skin from the heat being blasted upon her.

Fagon stared at the core group of younger people as the threat settled in.

"I can't just leave this well regulated place," Fagon said. "Out with no where to go and nothing to help me go."

"We can trade you two horses and a wagon for that house." Osafagan pointed afar where the horses lurked over the hill as a distant specter to them. Fagon stared on toward the area spotting a vague large figure at the top of the hill that was small at this distance. "That is more than enough to bring you to the north-west."

Fagon grinned.

"I need a hour to pack my belongings! Only the necessities!" Fagon assured. "I will be back, quite shortly."

Osafagan eyed at the older man.

"One hour." Osafagan replied.

Fagon closed the door then went inside of the mansion and went up the staircase. He opened the door to the bedroom with care then went toward the closet and took out several luggage. He set about opening them up except for one that he patted on fondly, nostalgically, just for a moment leaving it be on the well kept bed. Fagon unhooked the hangars, folded the clothing inside the cases, and took out a white leopard robe covered in feathers around the lining of it including the hood stitched to it then put it on. He put on the only good white tie and his white gloves then packed dozens of his white gloves into the glove compartment of the luggage. Fagon looked about the room searching for any little belongings that mattered that weren't packed a long time ago.

With none found searching in other rooms, Fagon retreated to his room then guided the luggage down the stairs setting them against the door. He went back upstairs, made several adjustments to the kitchen, then to the heaters, and little sabotage here and there. _Bad deals always pay in the end,_ Fagon mused to himself. _Threaten a older person and your luck will change._ He grinned from ear to ear of his pettiness. Many little things were sabotaged within the hour that would take time to discover in need of repair but that was all which he could do. He rubbed his hands together in glee in front of the door out of the mansion admiring the place one last time.

 _You need to run, far, far away should they come after you._ Fagon grimaced with the reminder then sighed as he smiled fondly at the better memories that the house had given him and other occupants that he had allowed to stay from time to time when things were better. The facts of the matter were clear, he had to go out west where he wouldn't be found and find a new hospital place to live. Fagon vaguely recalled the area the group had mentioned as once being called Montana with the notable hills and horses grazing. He rubbed his forehead with a groan. It pained him just to leave the house in this condition. It pained him not to go to the promised land.

Leaving behind extensive knowledge of how to put everything back together; pieces of civilization that could be used at a short moments notice lived in his mind and he couldn't go in future to confer with the same book to make sure if his memory was corrected. It pained Fagon that he had to leave the one place that he called home in the dark ages and be his protector. _Oh, such sweet sorrowful pain._ His heart ached, helplessly, torn by the inside that he couldn't stay. 

Fagon felt a rush of tears that blurred his vision and stung his eyes. His extensive knowledge from the books could now be put to use and seen to its validity not just the configurations of plumbing. _If I find the best house with the proper food and water, maybe then, people will be attracted and settle. Being alone in the dark is the worst fate._ The one place that had helped him was now being left behind and it was so frighting that he was going to be on his own again searching for sanctuary and people.

There was a heavy knock on the door that made him jump so he opened at the door and opened it a moment later.

"Can you help me pack my belongings into the wagon?" Fagon asked, quietly, but afraid. "I am too old and slow . . ."

"Course, we will!" Massissa exclaimed. "Just wait in the driver seat and we will have you all set up to leave."

"So we will." Osafagan agreed. "Pick up his belongings, people!"

One by one, they picked up his belongings and move up.

"Put them in carefully!" Fagon exclaimed. "Some of them are delicate in there!"

Fagon followed them up the hill and watched as the five luggage were set into the back. Some food was left behind inside of the wagon that could last him for a few days on the long journey. Fagon counted them all mentally taking stock that everything was where it should be. He fastened his belt around his waist once noting that his pant legs were down more than they were after lifting them up.

"All set!" Osafagan announced.

"Thank you, dears!" Fagon thanked. "Good-bye, farewell, adieu!" he turned toward the horses. "Go!"

"Good-bye!" The crowd replied with a wave as Fagon went on into the distance with the village leader watching him go.

The village leader was relieved to see him leave, unharmed, alive, and well There were other small wagons leaving with varying horses following behind him full of the hopeful hoping a better place to spend the rest of their natural lives. She watched as familiar figures departed in a single file line with mooing coming from the cows that were used for the ride by some instead of horses or donkeys. Everything was changing in a single day.

She sensed that she would not see Fagon again for many years and that he wouldn't be alone when they did crossed paths.

Her gut told her that Fagon was the only member of the community that was leaving of who she would see again.

**Author's Note:**

> IMDB indicates Jonathan Harris's character in The Flies, season 1, episode 1, of ARK II has his name spelled Fagon. The pronunciation of his name is simply my headcanon for why there is two contradictions verbally and by writing.


End file.
